


heart out of a vending machine

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Series: (i was raised by a television) [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teenagers, Best Friends, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 03:49:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2334158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"grew up as best friends but you got hot over the summer can i touch ur biceps skyewardAU" or, grant ward got hot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heart out of a vending machine

She’s sitting in a lawnchair in the backyard, sunglasses perched on her nose, determined to enjoy the last dregs of summer before school starts next week.

"Shouldn’t you be doing homework?" Dad had asked earlier, when Skye had headed outside armed with nothing but her bikini, sunscreen, and a pile of fall fashion magazines.

She’d showed him the magazines and beamed.  ”This is my homework!” she’d said.  Which it isn’t. She has like, three or four books to read, but she could read them all tonight, or whatever.  Right now it’s sunny and hot, and she wants to be outside.

Dad brought her a popsicle at some point, cherry, and it’s melted a little down her chest and she’s sure her lips are bright red, but that’s what the end of summer is for, anyway.

She almost chokes on the last bits of flavored ice when the sound of an old, red pickup truck pulls into the driveway next door.

The popsicle stick hits the dirt next to the lawn chair.  Skye almost goes back for it.  She’ll get it later.  Or dad will get it when he comes outside. She bounds across the lawn, to the fence, to the gate that connects the two yards.  

She makes it to the driveway just as the passenger side door opens up.

First out is Buddy, who leaps at Skye, tail wagging, to lick the sugary mess off her chest and her chin.

"Buddy," she whines, as he barks in excitement.  "We said you couldn’t jump on me anymore."

"Buddy!" Grant yells, and Skye doesn’t even see him get out of the car because she’s covered in dog.  "No!  Down!"

Buddy whines but obeys, staring up at Skye like he’s offering some kind of apology.  She pats his head with one hand and wipes slobber off her chest with the other.  ”It’s okay, Bud,” she says.

"Sorry, Skye," Grant says.  "He’s just excited to see you."

Skye looks up, some kind of teasing greeting planned, but she almost immediately forgets it.

Grant got hot.  This is not a drill.  He’d been kind of lanky and cute before he’d left for the cabin at the beginning of the summer.  That was his look. Lanky and cute.  Apparently he’d been doing nothing but pushups and eating raw eggs.  Since he had biceps for days.  For. Days.

"You’re back," Skye manages to say.  She remembers, suddenly, that she’s wearing her striped bikini.  Grant seems to remember this as well, as he hasn’t said another word, and she’s watching him try so, so hard not to stare at her boobs.  She wants to shove him and call him gross like she’s supposed to, but can’t seem to find the heart for it. 

She’s being stupid.  And weirdly shallow.  It’s Grant.  It is just Grant.  She opens her arms for a hug.  ”I missed you,” she says.

Grant scoops her up into a hug, the kind where he picks her up and she wraps her arms around his neck.  He smells nice.  And she did miss him.  A lot.  Summers were always so slow without him around.

"You’re still so tiny," he says.  He hasn’t put her down yet.

"Well you got bigger," she tells him.  "Look at your freaking biceps!"

He lets out that nervous laugh of his as he lets her down, and she can tell he’s fighting off the urge to blush.  Yep, still Grant.

"Besides," she declares, hand on her hip.  "I’m not actually  _that_  tiny.  I went up a cup size.”  This isn’t supposed to be weird.  Because they’re best friends and they’ve known each other forever and they can talk about these kinds of things.

Except that it’s really weird.  It’s really, really weird.

The color rushes to Grant’s face.  ”I-I-um,” he stammers. “You-” His eyes find her chest, and he gets even redder.  ”Wow.”

"We got hot," she decides, poking at his bicep, then at his pecs.  He meets her eyes again and smiles in earnest.

"I missed you so much," he tells her, playing with her hair.  "You have to come visit the cabin next summer."

She decides it’s best to just wrap him into another hug before she can say anything else.  She’s not functioning properly.  It’s the heat. It’s an end of summer rush of hormones.  She’s fine.  She is fine.  

Her check is pressed against him, and he is so stupidly firm and he’s such a good hugger, and she’s so mad right now.  It’s just Grant. Super-cute, always lovable, boy she’s had a crush on since the third grade Grant.  Now with biceps.

"Can you help me unpack?" he asks her, his chin on top of her head.  "Then we can, I don’t know, go see a movie or something?"

She tilts her head up to look at him.  ”I should probably go change real quick,” she says.

"You don’t have to!" Grant tells her, before realizing that he really shouldn’t have probably said that. "I mean.  You don’t have to if you don’t want to."

She pulls back.  ”I’ll be fast,” she promises.  ”It’ll give you time to unpack your underwear without me seeing.”

Number of awkward sexual comments made: Two.  What the shit.

Grant tries to laugh, and it kind of sounds like he’s imitating a goose. “I’ll do that,” he says.  ”All of my underwear.  Yes.”

She’s probably blushing by this point, too.  Her face certainly feels hot.  ”Be back in five,” she says.  ”Leave your window open, please.”

"You can’t just use my front door?" he asks, as she begins to back away.

She manages to smirk.  ”It’s tradition,” she tells him. 

He smiles back, still bright red, but better.  ”Okay,” he calls after her.  ”It’ll be open!” 

"Better be!" she teases, and hopes the quiet panic she’s having doesn’t show in her voice.  He’s just standing there, staring at her, and she prays to some higher power that this whole thing doesn’t get any weirder.

She knows it will, because they haven’t even had their annual end of the summer sleepover yet.

Oh, shit.

She is so screwed.


End file.
